


Ignoring Instincts

by 13lue7ewel



Category: Original Work
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-27
Updated: 2015-09-27
Packaged: 2018-04-23 16:44:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4884208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/13lue7ewel/pseuds/13lue7ewel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Different species can't love each other," he hissed crossly. "You're wrong," she answered. She smiled, and at that moment, he knew everything would be fine.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ignoring Instincts

**Author's Note:**

> Couple of things to note. All animals have their own native language.  
> Cat=Japanese   
> Bird=French  
> And the universal animal language is Enlgish.   
> Noire can understand a lot of languages. :3  
> Thank you for reading this!  
> Also, there's some cursing so be warned. :/

* * *

He had been a stray for a grand total of three months and seven days now.

Noire stretched his arms, cracked the joints of his fingers, and rubbed his eyes irritably. The sun was barely up, but the birds were already singing. He hissed a mild curse at whoever thought that birds needed to exist on Earth. They were annoying creatures who ruined everyone's peaceful morning with their annoying chattering.

Sighing, he remembered something that his grandfather had told him when he was a kitten, that birds were only good for one thing, being a meal. Personally, he could never even imagine himself eating a bird. The thought of killing an animal, and then having to put said animal inside his stomach made him want to gag.

With a small yawn, he banished all thoughts of birds, insects, mice, fish, and other annoying creatures in favor of breakfast. It was a short walk to the house that he often visited for food when he was tired of rummaging around in the garbage. Beggars couldn't be choosers, but sometimes he just wanted a regular meal.

He scratched at the door a few times, then patiently waited until a small human walked out. It was a little girl, and like always she was carrying a bowl of water and a plate of dry cat food. Setting both down, the human scratched his ears while he purred. She giggled, patted his head one last time, then skipped back into her home.

He slowly started eating, quietly enjoying the serene scenery.

Then he heard _her_.

"Hey, pussycat!," she chirped indignantly from the...other side of a window? She butted her head against the dirty, cloudy glass and said even louder,"I know you can hear me you jerk! Get me out of this cesspool!"

What the hell was she doing in a human's home? She would never go in one of those...oh, he realized something with a sinking feeling in his stomach.

She was the last bird to willingly go into some human's home, she had obviously been captured. Typical. That freaking idiot...

 So as to not give away his true emotions, he gave her a smug look. "So, finally got caught, Nixon? Do you want me to say,'I told you so'?"

"Ugh! You're an insufferable prick, always smirking and strutting around like you're the best thing since bird food! Y-You don't even know what they do to animals here!" She, for once in her life, looked fearful.

"That's what you get for annoying me every morning," he replied coldly. "Also, I don't  _strut_ , I'm a cat, not a peacock."

He resumed eating, but glanced at her every so often. Nixon's hair looked awful, the sky blue locks were limp and messy. If there was one thing the tomboyish blue jay cared about her appearance, it was her hair. Clothes? Didn't matter. Skin? Didn't matter. Wings? As long as they were functioning correctly. But hair? It meant the world to her.

"How long have you been in there?" he tried to ask casually. Like he didn't really care, but was just asking to be polite or something.

Her voice quivered. "Five days. The little girl human gave me some food when I was starving, but then her father, at least I think he's her father, put me in some cage and took me inside. And, well...the little girl human is nice, but she has this creepy older sister who's always holding d-dead animals..." She turned to him once more, her voice pleading, "Please, Noire, you have to help me. I can't stand it in here anymore! I-I'm scared, and....and I wanna be a wild bird again. Please...I'll d-do anything!"

He felt a lump in his throat and his hair rose, suddenly he wasn't that hungry anymore. He walked up to the window, his green eyes glaring at the blue jay. "You expect me to risk my life for you? I'm sorry, last time I checked, birds and cats? We don't get along. The only reason I haven't eaten you yet is cause you'd probably cause indigestion."

"Cats do not get along with birds, cats do not get along with birds, cats do not get along with birds," he thought to himself over and over again.

Not wanting to hear what she had to say next, he stormed off, trying desperately to ignore her cries for him to come back.

* * *

He paced around the house the entire day, far away enough to be unseen by the family (and Nixon), but close enough for him to see them. Should he help her or should he not? 

And even if he was going to help her, how the hell was he supposed to get in? All the doors were locked, as were the windows. Yes, he was definitely insane for even trying. Why the hell did he care about that bird so much? He told himself that Nixon could handle herself, but the way he felt about her honestly wasn't helping him one bit.

It also didn't help that he could hear Nixon constantly.

It was very distracting (and heartbreaking) to hear her cry his name, begging for him to come back. He heard her scream for help, heard her chirp indignantly when someone touched her, heard her curse and swear at every living thing that came her way, but when the sun went down, she went silent.

He hadn't realized it at first, but he listened once more and yes, she had definitely ceased talking.

Maybe she had given up, he tried to reason logically.

...

"Or maybe she's dead," a nasty voice in his head sneered, "and  _you're_ the one who let her die. Congratulations, Noire, you're a disgrace to your species _and_ a coward."

"She's not...she can't be..."

He ran towards the window, jumping up onto the ledge. He growled to himself,"Nixon, if you're dead I'm going to...I'm going to...damn it, Nixon. I don't know what I'll do, but I'm sorry. I'm so sorry I left yo-"

"I'm not dead."

He flinched and determinedly looked through the glass, then he spotted her.

His eyes locked onto a heap of blue feathers and hair lying on the table, thankfully the pile moved. Nixon looked up, her eyes swollen and red, she wiped them and hissed,"What do you want, pussycat? Come to make fun of me? Haha, here's Nixon, that annoying blue jay, serves her right to be in there!"

He opened his mouth to argue but she cut him off. 

"Get out! I hate you! I hate you!" she screeched. He pursed his lips, the words felt like sharp claws digging into his heart. He made a sound of indifference and turned to leave.

Then she started crying, horrible, wracking sobs, and showed him her wings. "Th-They cut them! The tops!" She covered her face, tears dripping from her eyes, she screamed hysterically, "I-I can't fly, what did th-they do to me?! I can't fly!!"

They clipped them, clipped her wings. 

He turned back around to face her.

Whatever had made his Nixon cry like this deserved the slowest, most painful death on the face of this Earth. He snarled a few curses under his breath, instincts be damned, he wanted to save this bird, no matter how annoying she was.

"I'm sorry, Nixon. I really want to help but I..." he trailed off and his eyes widened. He was an idiot. A fucking idiot. He jumped back down, ignoring Nixon's terrified shouts for him to come back. He scratched at the door continually until someone opened it.

It was the older one, and damn she was scary. Easily seven feet tall, a necklace of skulls (raven, crow, and pigeon) on her neck, and spiky collars on her arms. She smiled unpleasantly and picked him up, crooning,"Aw, hey there little guy. Are you lost?" He scoffed at that. Him? Lost? That was an insult to his intelligence.

Of course she would like him, he was a black cat after all. He noticed that creepy people like her tended to actually like black cats.

They were harbingers of bad luck after all.

He reluctantly nuzzled her, managing to give her a convincing purr. She squealed and brought him inside, stroking his velvet fur obsessively. "Get your filthy hands off of me." he muttered under his breath.

The inside of the home looked like a dump, and there was a rancid smell of sour alcohol and rusty blood in the air. Clothes were strewn all over the floor, along with a few smudges of blood here and there. One whiff told him that it was all animal blood. He looked away from the stains. 

The human set him down to Nixon, grinning a wide, unnerving smile.

Nixon stared in disbelief, inching away from the both of them. She whimpered and hid behind her wings, protecting herself by wrapping them around her.

"Do you kill and eat birds? What am I saying, of course you do," she giggled, closing the door behind her. She was holding a knife, he scowled when he saw pieces of blue feathers stuck to congealed blood, she was the one who had clipped Nixon's wings. She opened her mouth to say something, but then a small, timid voice called out.

"Annie? I had a bad dream..."

The little girl's voice, oh thank the freaking skies and trees, there was someone sane in this rat's hole.

The older human, Annie, rolled her eyes and whispered,"This is my little sister's annoying pet. It's really getting on my fucking nerves, it sings every single morning. But I know you'll kill it whenever you're ready. You're a cat after all."

Annie sighed dreamily,"Of course, if you don't do it, I could always kill the thing. All of it's gorgeous crimson blood dripping onto my fingers..."

She gave him one more unpleasant smile and stood up. Then she shouted,"Shut the hell up and go to bed, Elizabeth! Nobody cares about you and your fucking nightmares!"

She stomped upstairs and slammed a door.

Once she was gone, Nixon looked scared of him, and it actually hurt to see that she didn't trust him. "Noire? Wh-What did the human say to you?"

He always knew that it would be helpful to learn numerous languages, but never has he been so grateful to understand Human English as he did now. He turned to Nixon, his eyes distant and cold,"She told me to kill you whenever I felt like it."

"And also, she's going to kill you if I don't, but I'll think about that later," he thought to himself. He swore that he would never let anything happen to her.

Nixon whimpered,"A-And? Are...are you-"

"Do you think I would willingly let myself get caught just to kill you? I could've done that weeks ago if I wanted to, idiot," he interrupted. He scowled and allowed his tail to curl around Nixon and mumbled grudgingly as he closed his eyes,"I'll get you out, so stop crying, damn it."

There was a silence, then he felt wings cautiously perch themselves over his tail. Nixon rested her head on his tail and whispered in Bird,"Merci."

He ignored the warm feeling he had and muttered back,"Tais-toi et aller dormir."

**Author's Note:**

> Bird/French   
> "Merci"-Thank you.  
> "Tais-toi et aller dormir."-Shut up and go to sleep.


End file.
